


That Wasn't Supposed to Happen!

by The Wolfs Shadow (callmemulder)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Author Commentary, Bad Acting, Bad Puns, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Casual Redshirt Death, Crack, Drama, Gen, Humor, Multi, Parody, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Redshirt Torture, The Sound of Music References, Winnie-the-Pooh References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 11,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmemulder/pseuds/The%20Wolfs%20Shadow
Summary: Just a few what-might-have-beens and what-ifs. Includes different members of the crew and other characters. COMPLETE!
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Kudos: 3





	1. Mind Melt

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Star Trek franchise or the characters in it.

Spock exited swiftly from the brig. His brow furrowed slightly, he looked almost confused.

"What happened, Spock?" asked Kirk.

"Sir, I... I believe I have just performed a mind _melt._ "

For a little while they both looked uncertainly at each other.

Kirk started to speak, paused for a moment and then said thoughtfully, " _That's_ never happened before."


	2. Practice Makes Perfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: The Enterprise Incident. They had to pull of Kirk's death just right, otherwise the Romulan captain would have been suspicious. It only makes sense that they would practice before hand.

McCoy caught Kirk and lowered him to the floor. His voice full of hurt, panic, and betrayal. "What did you do? What did you do?"

"I was unprepared for his attack", Spock said stiffly.

"I instinctively, might have, possibly, maybe used the 'Vulcan Death Grip", he continued hesitantly.

"Spock? What in the world..." groaned McCoy.

Kirk getting to his feet said, "Spock, you need to try harder; it's very important we get this right. One more time, from the top."

McCoy groaned again.


	3. Scotty's Ale

It had been a bad month for Scotty. In between emergencies, getting a decent meal, and the occasional good nights sleep, he only ever had a minute or two a day for a glass of scotch and never time for anything else. So naturally after a little while he ran out of it, and not having any time to get some more, he had to resort to other measures.

* * *

He waited until the night shift before setting out. Being careful not to attract any attention, he walked along at a leisurely pace while taking the long route. Occasionally when someone noticed how strange it was for him to be in that section of the ship at that time of night, he would whip out a little machine that would beep at random and would wave it around, looking like he was doing something official. It worked every time.

Eventually, he arrived at sickbay. He proceeded to wave his way past the night nurse and into McCoy's office. On his knees, he rummaged through all the drawers until he found it. Finally! The small bottle of Romulan ale glinted in the artificial light.

"Eh, it'll do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I would love to see McCoy's reaction. Hint, hint.
> 
> I'm looking at you. Yes, you. I know you're reading this. Now look me in the eye and tell me you don't have the slightest inclination to review. Remember, reviews help me keep going. If you happen to have a prompt, please include it in the review. Thank you!


	4. Fruity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: Friday's Child

"Jim!"

Kirk looked up, his hand inches away from the strange fruit. He looked confused.

"If you touch it, her nearest male relative will have to try to kill you. They're offering you a chance for combat; they consider it more pleasurable than love." explained McCoy. He was enjoying this.

Spock moved closer to look at the other fruit, he asked McCoy, "Doctor, what is the meaning of this green fruit with spines?"

"Well, that means they don't like you. If you accept it, you agree that there won't be any communication between the two of you."

"Fascinating."

Kirk pointed from his seat to a apple-like, purple fruit. "What does that one mean?"

McCoy grinned outright. "If she were to give this one to you and you were to touch it, it would mean that you've agreed to court her. Looks like she really came prepared."

After McCoy said this, the alien woman turned to him and held up a cob of corn. It cast a yellow glow on the air around it.

Spock looked questioningly at this. "Doctor, what is the significance of that corn?"

McCoy scratched his head. "Ya' know, Spock, I really don't have any idea."


	5. Mind Melt Continued

Ensign Morun was _not_ happy.

At the moment he was unhappy because he was mopping up the mess Spock had made last week. He was from security for goodness sake! Why the heck was he filling in for Phil, the janitor? He was seriously beginning to rethink joining Starfleet if this is how they ran things... Shouldn't they have called someone to clean this up earlier?

As it was, Ensign Morun was now mopping up the remains of something. Or someone? He didn't want to know.

* * *

Half an hour later the gooey mess where the head should have been still refused to come of the floor.

Poking it with his boot, the disgruntled Morun grumbled, "I'm a redshirt not a janitor! I should be beaming down to some planet right now."

The universe, sufficiently reminded, saw fit at this time to reanimate the mess on the floor long enough for it to move three inches to the left, tripping Ensign Morun.

Flying head over heels into the wall and then ricocheting to the doorway where the force shield activated, Morun's short stint as a janitor met it's end.


	6. Quote I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Star Trek franchise or the characters in it. I would like to own McCoy though...

_**What happens if you get scared half to death twice?** _

McCoy watched with at first panic, and then awe, as Ensign Morun screamed in terror at the over-sized insect that was about to ingest him. Turning to run, Morun's eyes opened wide to stare into the jaws of a giant, bloodsucking, leech-like creature. He then toppled over, apparently dead. Morun, not the leech. "Dang redshirt, now what am I supposed to write in my report?" grumbled McCoy as he made his escape.


	7. Quote II

_**Why do people say 'heads up' when you should duck?** _

"Heads up!" warned Captain Kirk as yet another duck carcass flew through the air.

McCoy popped up from his place of safety, only to get a face full of fowl. "Dang it, Jim! Stop doing that!"

"Doing what, Bones?" Kirk smirked.

Later that day it was heard all over the ship how McCoy had leapt up from behind his table in the mess hall, and had dodged every single duck that the replicators had thrown at him just so he could strangle the Captain.


	8. Quote III

_**What would happen if you found a four-leaf-clover under a ladder?** _

He was walking towards engineering to speak to Scotty when he saw 's eyebrow raised in question of the sight before him.

Standing in the middle of the hall was a red engineering ladder, with a perfectly pristine four-leafed-clover resting just beneath it.

Scratching his head, he was going to ask someone what was going on, but then decided against it. No one had noticed yet, so what was the harm?

He walked on, being careful not to pass under the ladder.


	9. Quote IV

_**An apple a day keeps the doctor away if well aimed.** _

Spock contemplated the means of defense he was about to use.

"Doctor, I warn you, do not attempt to approach me or I will be forced to use this apple." He readied himself to throw it at the confused doctor.

"What the heck are you talking about, Spo-" was as far as McCoy got before he was pelted repeatedly with apples.

As he made his tactical retreat to sickbay he thought to himself, "Well, we'll just have to try for that physical examination _again_ tomorrow."


	10. Quote V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: A Piece of The Action

"So what we have to do is beam down to the planet's surface, steal a car so we can drive to one of the gang boss' house, hold the boss hostage, get all the other gang bosses to meet with us, ignore the prime directive so we can beat up a few of their thugs and impress the bosses, make an arrangement, and then beam out of there and be on our way" explained Kirk.

"Wow" exclaimed McCoy, " _ **That's pretty illegal… even for us.**_ "


	11. Spork

"Spock, what is it?" asked Kirk in a hushed voice.

"I do not know, Captain" replied Spock.

"It's so... unnatural" murmured McCoy.

They all gazed down at the spork.


	12. Of Grapefruit and Bets

"Captain, may I ascertain as to why you are embracing a grapefruit?" Spock gave Kirk one of his heavily patented eyebrow raises.

"Oh, I've sent out a ship-wide memo that today is Get to Know Your Fruit Day! I chose a grapefruit because grapefruits need more love. What did you choose?"

Spock's stance was stiff as he said, "I did not receive the memo. As I am not aware of the rules, I will not be able to participate in today's activities."

"Well, this is ho-", Kirk's voice cut off as he saw Spock walk hurriedly away from him, making a valiant attempt to appear as if he hadn't heard Kirk.

As he watched Spock scurry away, Kirk chuckled. Unbeknownst to himself, Spock was headed straight for sickbay.

* * *

The doors to sickbay hissed open as Spock walked in.

McCoy sprang out of his office and ran at Spock, yelling the whole time, _"Hey Spock! Let's play Pin the Ear On the Vulcan!"_

Spock, his eyes wide, turned tail. The doors to sickbay shut behind him.

* * *

Later Kirk met up with McCoy in a discreet little corner. "Well, how long did it take you?" hissed McCoy.

"A little less than a minute", replied a grinning Kirk .

McCoy let out a short laugh. "He was out of sick bay in ten seconds flat. Sorry, Jim, but I win."

After settling the bet, McCoy leaned in close to whisper in Kirk's ear. "Man, that hobgoblin can run!"

A loud guffaw rang out in the mess hall, causing a certain hobgoblin to take his leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was written for Kamai6 who made a request for grapefruit.


	13. Too Human

"Bones, I just don't understand it", said a worried Kirk.

"Don't worry, Jim. I'll handle this."

McCoy turned to Spock. "Have you contracted any rare diseases recently? Any close friends die? Come in contact with any strange plants or their spores?" McCoy continued calling out questions from the list that he and Kirk had compiled over the years...

"Nope. Nothing's happened", responded Spock once McCoy was done. "In fact, I feel pretty good." He smiled.

Looking over to Kirk, McCoy said, "I know I've always said Spock should be more human, but this is just wrong!"


	14. Sticky

The people of this planet were tall and lanky with long, angular faces and bright orange had been part of the Federation for some time now, but there were some anomalies in their area that Starfleet wanted checked out.

It was for this reason that Kirk, McCoy, and Chekov got some vacation time in one of the smaller cities conveniently located near the local jungle o' doom.

After beaming down they set out to make friends with the locals. Chekov approached a likely looking Neonian who happened to be standing around.

"Hello", said Chekov.

"Hi." It appeared to Chekov that this whole "make friends with the locals" thing might be harder than he thought.

"What is eet you do down here?" At this the orange alien perked up.

"I study your human anatomy in hopes that I might one day be a doctor for your kind!" Chekov's buddy was getting excited.

"How ees that going for you?"

"Not so well. I can blow the meat _off_ you, but I can't stick back on. It's a work in progress. It's shame really, because I'm the only doctor this side of the planet", explained the alien man.

"Eh, well that's _wherry_ nice and I'm sure you'll have better luck. I really must be going now. Good-bye." Chekov then ran away- er, ran back to his group to see what they were doing.

It was at this point in time that Kirk announced "Hey, let's explore that jungle over there, it looks interesting."

An inhuman scream sounded from said jungle's depths.

First taking a moment to check his nails, McCoy said, "Sure, Jim." What the heck, he was bored anyway. And with that great start, they set off.

* * *

Their group had been separated early on, and Chekov had made sure he was separated with McCoy. He did not want to be in _this_ particular jungle without _his_ doctor.

A twig snapped.

Chekov leaped in front of McCoy, arms outspread and declared, "Don't worry, Doctor, I will protect you!"

"Of course, Chekov", said McCoy as he made a mental note to go over the Russian's psychological analysis once he got back to the ship.

After McCoy had persuaded Chekov that yes, he was perfectly fine walking, and that, no, he did not need to be carried, they continued walking through the jungle in search of Kirk, because they had somehow lost their communicators and therefore couldn't call the Enterprise to get beamed back up.

As they walked further into the unknown, they saw a large mire full of quicksand, and at the other end their communicators. "Well doesn't that beat all..." muttered McCoy.

"Don't worry, Doctor! I weel get our communicators!", exclaimed Chekov right before he ran out into the mire straight towards the quicksand.

This shocked McCoy so much that he could only stand there and mouth stuttering obscenities. He watched as Chekov finished wading through the quicksand to the communicators and pocketed them before running back through the quicksand!

"H-how, why?", McCoy questioned Chekov having regained some of his composure.

"Jist a moment, Doctor", said Chekov before he had them both beamed up.

* * *

"Where have you two been? I got back three hours ago." Kirk greeted them on the transporter pad. He paused to really look at them.

McCoy looked just the same as before they had gone to explore the jungle, Chekov on the other hand... He had a black eye and several small cuts on his face and hands and he was covered from his boots to his chest in goopy, wet sand.

"What happened to you?"

"The doctor hit me when I tried to carry him, so I cleared the way through the cactus patch insteed, Sir. There was also some quicksand, and did you know they don't have any doctors down there?" Chekov rattled on.

Kirk shook his head. "Forget it, Chekov."

"I wish I could", mumbled McCoy.


	15. Muse

Lil' Spock looked incredulously at the bowl of "sustenance" in his hands and then up at me. "It is illogical to ingest reviews."

"Shut up and eat your dinner. I worked hard for those", my patience was wearing thin.

"No." He set the bowl down.

* * *

Spock was just coming of the lift from the bridge when he saw a young miniature of himself walk calmly past him and down the corridor. Only seconds later an irate female ran past, chasing after the small Spock.

The first officer's eyebrow made it's annual migration towards his hairline. He gave his head a little shake, "Illogical."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one's for Yalana Cotu. Yes, I literally feed reviews to my muse, Lil' Spock.
> 
> Reviews will be fed to my muse. (He he!)


	16. Green

Spock walked down the streets of San Francisco. He was heading to see the display of Andorian pottery in a local museum.

Walking up the steps of the museum, he had reason to pause.

There was a female human (of the type McCoy most often referred to as a "dang teenager") pointing a manicured fingernail at him from a few yards away. She approached him, a strange expression on her face. Spock wondered what she would say.

"You're like a worm 'cause your blood's green."

"That is quite illogical as the worms native to this planet do not have green blood. I must assume that you were ignorant of this fact or are, to put it in terms you may understand, an idiot."

He then left the gaping female's company and entered the museum. He had pottery to look at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was written partially in protest and partially for Kamai6.


	17. Censored

At first McCoy was surprised and shocked at the actions of natives. Then the surprise and shock turned to irritation and anger. "*Censored* it", he cried!

As the aliens native to this planet bound them and tied them to their respective poles, Spock couldn't help but observe, "I do not understand your desire to dam this situation. There is no waterway for such a barrier to be constructed. If there were, it might be imperative that we did not impede it. We could not possibly construct a dam because of a lack of supplies and the situation we are currently in. Furthermo- "

"Shut up, Spock! Now is _not_ the time!" McCoy was becoming increasingly worried as they were carried toward the bonfire. 


	18. SAMPLE

Spock studied at his desk while his roommate, Kirk, searched through their fridge. Kirk let out a triumphant "Yes!", indicating he had found something to eat.

Saddling up behind Spock, Kirk slurped away at what he had found in the fridge. He looked over the resident Vulcan's shoulder at what he was doing. Spock continued to study until he got a whiff of that delicious smell...

"Kirk, are you eating the Plomeek soup I specifically set aside for my own consumption?"

Gulping another mouthful of soup, Kirk answered, "Uh... Yes?"

Spock exhaled slowly. He did _not_ sigh. Sighing was illogical.

* * *

The next day Spock gathered plant samples to conduct tests on.

Walking towards his preferred lab, he contemplated the problem Kirk presented. Kirk did not seem to understand that the food he placed in the refrigerator was his, and not Kirk's. What could he do to dissuade his illogical roommate from eating his food?

He fingered the samples. And just like that, it came to him.

* * *

Kirk had just gotten back from his last class for the day and was rummaging through the fridge.

He saw something interesting behind the ketchup... Reaching into the back of the fridge, he pulled out a small brown, paper bag. The bag was labeled "SAMPLE".

_Sample?_ , Kirk thought. _Uh-uh, there's no way I'm eating that._

Snatching up his jacket from where he'd dropped it on the couch, Kirk walked out of the apartment. _I'm eating out tonight._


	19. The Word

"Blah... surrender... die... blah... antidisestablishmentarianism... blah." As the alien transmission ended, the bridge went silent as everyone considered what had been said.

Sulu and Chekov exchanged glances.

Kirk looked around the bridge before leaving his chair. He turned to Spock.

"Spock, what does... antidisestablish-thing mean?"

"I do not know, Captain." Spock looked a little ashamed.

Silence range out on the bridge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I got a prompt from Holly Xavier-Diggory a while back asking that I use the word "antidisestablishmentarianism". I googled it and the definition I got was so contorted, I just couldn't understand it. So neither could they... =P


	20. Baaah!

Ships and planets were left behind and soon forgotten. The entity drifted through space... Stars and black-wholes stole bits and pieces of _it_.

After hundreds of countless years, _it_ had come together as one whole and had alighted on a planet. _It_ was hungry _._

The planet was lush and green. At first it appeared lifeless, but soon- "Baa-ah!" A life form! _It_ would feed!

"Die, you will die! Kill, kill, KILL!" The sheep gazed on, nonplussed. In a fit of rage, _it_ took over the sheep. The wild-eyed, fierce looking sheep took off in search of other beings _it_ might be able to feed from.

"Bah! Baa-ah!" The enraged sheep screamed at the herd. It proved ineffective, as the sheep weren't scared and only moved away because of the noise. This continued all day as _it_ tried to stir fear up in the hearts of the sheep.

As the sun fell below the horizon, _it_ felt something new. Contentment.

Having found _it's_ new calling in life, Redjac the Sheepherder was born!


	21. Kirk Smirk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: The Man Trap

Spock considered the move Kirk had just made.

Eyebrows drawing together as he scanned the board, obviously "concerned."

"Checkmate, Spock." Kirk smirked; he had just beat his first officer at his own game. _Again._

* * *

Kirk made an offer to leave the lovebirds to themselves. "What? And let Plum examine me alone?" Nancy joked. Kirk was confused for a moment.

"Plum?", he asked.

As Nancy explained the nickname she'd given him, McCoy's face flushed with embarrassment.

Kirk chuckled to himself. _He'd have to tell Spock..._ Kirk smirked.

* * *

He'd been watching them all day.

Sulu and Chekov's heads had been shoved together whenever they thought he wasn't looking.

Whatever they were planning, he'd find out. And when he did, boy would they be in for a surprise.

As Sulu and Chekov whispered their plans, Kirk smirked.

* * *

The author looked over the text illuminated on the screen.

_Kirk smirked... Kirk smirked..._

If she used that phrase one more time, she'd have to get rights! "The Kirk Smirk", for example.

Laughing, Kirk smirked. _Oh wait._


	22. Flowers

It would be hard, but it was _necessary_. This issue had been eating at Chekov for too long. He had to say it. "Sulu?"

The helmsman turned towards him, his expression questioning.

"Flowers are wherry girl-y."


	23. Allergy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've been thinking for a while now that Chekov must have reservations about Sulu's fondness for plants, so that's what the last tidbit was about. :P

Morun sat in McCoy's office, talking rapid fire. The doctor leaned forward in his chair, intent on what the ensign was saying.

"I've never felt this way before. I just don't know how to explain it."

"Why don't you start at the beginning." McCoy leaned back, settling in for the story.

* * *

Morun had been eating his lunch in relative peace. His eyes wandered around the mess hall as he played absentmindedly with his food. And then he saw _her_.

He'd just taken a bite. Food caught in his throat. Fork clattering to the table, he stared in awe.

Her silky blond hair was caught up in a messy bun, while still regulation. Long lashes gently caressed the shape of her large, blue eyes.

Morun couldn't breathe. His hands were clammy, shaking a tad more than he liked.

She moved gracefully and with poise. Her long body bent elegantly as she seated herself at a table nearby.

His faced went red. He had to leave before he did something embarrassing.

Jumping from his seat, his tray fell to the floor with a loud crash. _Too late._

He flew out the door, heading to sickbay...

* * *

Morun grew quiet, having finished his story. They sat in silence, considering... "C-could I be in love?" Morun asked, eyes wide, face earnest.

The doctor started. "What was it you were eating, again?"

"Just a peanutbutter and jel-"

"Well, there you go. You're allergic to peanuts." McCoy interupted him. Pushing him out of the office he said, "Have a nice day", before the doors shut in Morun's face.

The young man, Ensign Seamus Morun, stood aghast outside McCoy's office door. " _What?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Credit for Morun's first name goes to Yalana Cotu.


	24. What's Ale-ing Ya?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor reference to The Trouble with Tribbles.

"Have a good day!" He closed the door in front of the startled ensign's face.

McCoy turned and practically collapsed in his chair. _Phew. That was a close one. I almost had to talk about... l-love._ He shuddered.

Needing something to keep his spirits up after his close encounter, McCoy leaned forward, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Pulling open the bottom drawer of his desk, he shuffled aside the various pads and hypos.

He didn't find what he was looking for. "Where did I put that ale?" Grumbling, he left the office to check the cabinet where he kept the _legal_ drinks.

Nothing!

For almost an hour McCoy had walked a shallow groove into the floor from searching back and forth before he realized the ale wasn't to be found.

Nurse Chapel had been watching him scramble all over sickbay for a while now, and had been surprised to see him stop. "What are you looking for, Leonard?"

"My... ah, well... It's nothing", he fumbled. "Don't worry about it, Christine."

A disbelieving look from his head nurse later, McCoy was out the door.

Half running to security, he vowed to find his ale.

* * *

"Why that good for nothing, scotch-drinking, bagpipe-playing..." McCoy played the security feed again.

_Scotty, on his knees, rummaged through the desk until he found the Romulan ale. "Eh, it'll do."_

In a rage, the ship's CMO stormed off to find a certain chief engineer.

* * *

**In Scotty's Quarters...**

"Why'd you think you could just take what's not yours and everything would be fine?", McCoy hissed.

"I didna think you would mind. I only sneaked around 'cause nobody's suppose ta know ya have it", explained the Scotsman, his expression earnest. "There's some left if you want it." Scotty brought out the half-empty bottle.

"You bet I want it!" McCoy snatched the bottle from Scotty, only to have it slip from his fingers.

Both men watched with horror as the bottle fell. Frantically they tried to catch it. To no avail.

_Crash!_

They gazed at the pool of ale and shattered glass at their feet...

Scotty was stricken, as he only had that vodka, no, _milk_ to turn to now.

As for McCoy...

Nobody could talk to him for a week without getting their head bitten off!


	25. Squee!

He ran, dodging through the crowd. Some people gawked and wondered why a Vulcan would have to run anywhere... As he ran, Spock searched the faces of the crowd.

_Yes,they hadn't caught up with him yet._

Despite his usual grace, Spock tripped. Scrambling to his feet, his scraped hands clenched in fists, his eyes were wide and filled with urgency.

_He had to loose them!_

Running at full speed now, he could hear them coming behind him. Almost frantically, he turned a sharp corner only to find himself alone and at a dead end.

For a brief moment his face was filled with horror. Then they were upon him. Like a huge wave they crashed into the alley, backing him further into a corner.

The victorious fangirls squealed with delight.

_They had caught him!_


	26. Kidding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: Metamorphosis

"Bones, what do you make of that?"

"Almost a symbiosis of some kind. A sort of joining." They both looked on at the interaction between the human male and alien female.

"Not exactly like a pet owner speaking to a beloved animal, would you say?"

"Hmm," McCoy considered. "No, it's more than that."

"Agreed... more like _love_."

Kirk glanced over at McCoy. The doctor's face twitched. Silence. McCoy started laughing.

"You almost had me there, Jim! I mean, really? _Love?_ You've gotta be kidding me!"

Kirk chuckled. It _had_ been a stretch...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I can see the script writer's conversation now...
> 
> "So the cloud totally digs the guy. And at first he's just like 'Ew', but in the end they both fall in love."
> 
> The second writer decides to add his two cents," Yeah! And they guy has been totally oblivious to how the cloud feels for like a hundred years. It's so romantic..."


	27. Mommy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: The Trouble with Tribbles

Jimmy was on the swing-set when he heard the other boys talking.

Monty and little Pavel were playing in the sandbox with Samuel Klingon. As he played, Samuel called their friend, Jimmy, names. He eyed the other children, wanting to see their reactions.

Little Pavel stood, his face scrunched up and with sand in his curls. He then turned to Samuel and said, "Don't call him that! You're being wery mean!" Having had his say, he plopped down on his seat and returned to digging in the sand.

This small display did not deter Samuel from his goal. He continued to call Jimmy names, but this only had the affect of making Pavel red in the face. Monty continued to ignore him.

Samuel changed tactics. Monty had a red wagon that he treasured above everything else... "The Enterprise smells funny. It smells like a garbage truck!"

During the following scuffle in which there was some shoving and even more name-calling, Jimmy got off the swing.

He ran from the playground, lips set in a pout. They wouldn't fight over him, but they would fight of the Enterprise? Tears streaming down his face, he called out-

"Mommy!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Whenever I see the scene where Scotty explains to Kirk why he started the fight, I always think of this. Kirk is such a young boy at heart anyway. ^_^


	28. Recurring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Star Trek franchise or the characters in it. Or The Sound of Music. X)

Kirk stood on the surface of a strange planet.

It was strange because the sky was blue instead of the usual pink or purple, he didn't know which planet it was, and it was _completely_ covered with posies. But none of this actually mattered because right in front of him was a Klingon.

The Klingon didn't seem to see Kirk, even though he was directly facing the Starfleet captain. This might have been because he was so caught up in his singing.

"The hills are alive and they're eating people!" The Klingon raised his arms in the air and flapped his hands dramatically. "Aah-a-a-aah!"

Once Kirk had recovered his faculties and while the Klingon pranced about, Kirk dropped to the ground. Hiding behind a convenient mound of posies he watched the Klingon. Needless to say, Kirk was on his guard.

"The hills are alive with the sound of my voice!" Here the Klingon threw back his head and belted out a horrific "Aah-a-a-AAH!"

Towards the last note, the Klingon had spotted Kirk. "Come! Dance with me, you pitiful human!" The Klingon's naturally deep voice only made the command more threatening.

Kirk was dragged from behind the posies. His arm caught in the vice-like grip of the Klingon, Kirk stained to get away.

"I won't dance with you!" cried Kirk.

"Then you must sing!"

* * *

The alarm clock went off. Sitting up in bed, Kirk put his head in his hands and sighed. Loudly.

_"Not again."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is partially for Kamai6, who wanted something about Klingon poetry. This was about as close as I could get without giving myself nightmares. This chapter was also based off a line from KLMeri's fic, Offerings on the Vine. I recommend that you read it. :)


	29. Choices

Kirk laid the objects in question out on his bed.

"Should I wear my Gold Command Shirt or my Rank Has Its Privileges Wrap? I do like the wrap..." Kirk considered... "It's a little too casual for today."

Kirk set the green wrap-around shirt back down.

"I wonder if I should wear one of my Easy-Tear Shirts. Mmm... Probably not. They're a pain to replace..."

Kirk stood at the foot of his bed and leveled a hard stare at the remaining tops...

"Since I'm going with Gold Command, should I wear it Normal or with Red or Green Blood... or both?"

* * *

McCoy and Spock watched the doors to sickbay close behind Kirk's retreating form. McCoy turned to Spock. "I suppose I should change into my Surgery/Operation Shirt now."

McCoy walked into his office were he always kept fresh changes of clothes, just in case. From the confines of his office he called out, "Spock, you should probably change into your Tortured Torn and Bloodied Shirt before the Captain comes back."

From outside the office, Spock replied, "Indeed."


	30. Epiphany

The minutes ticked by as the head of security gave his report. Staff meetings had never been so boring.

 _Spock is all ears, of course,_ McCoy thought before letting out a small chuckle. No one noticed.

Kirk was slowly nodding off as the old redshirt continued to drone on about a misplaced ladder. The whole time, McCoy ever so subtly doodled on his PADD.

As the head of security turned things over to Spock, McCoy had a sudden epiphany.

"It's so simple! Corn is a test of-" McCoy cut off his rambling as he noticed everyone's stares.

Spock was turned towards McCoy with the Vulcan equivalent of a glare set on his stony face. Almost robotically, his eyebrow rose.

Kirk, who had been startled awake by McCoy's outburst, sat up and pretended to pay attention as Spock continued his report.

Sullenly McCoy turned back to his doodles.


	31. Logically, Of Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Logic is a little tweeting bird, chirping in a meadow. Logic is wreath of pretty flowers that smell bad. Are you sure your circuits are registering correctly? Your ears are green!"  
> \- Spock. I, Mudd.

Sarek gestured to the great expanse before him. "This is logic."

What Sarek meant by those words was that nature is logical. It has rules and it follows these rules. Nature never acts illogically.

Sarek was making a point.

Young Spock stood by his father's side, looking into the vast canyon bellow him. He saw a canyon filled with nothing but hot sand, desert air, and a flowering bush. Spock focused on the large bush as it stood out against the rest.

The bush belonged to a particular family of plants that smell like the Terran skunk. Flitting from one flower of the bush to the next was a small bird. The bird chirped erratically as it hopped about.

Sarek stood erect and as proud as any Vulcan as he surveyed the harsh beauty before him. Dwarfed by his father, Spock seemed to shrink a little as he considered his father's words. _This is logic?_

Spock missed the point completely.


	32. Those Darn Interns!

The _Enterprise_ rocked with the impact of the Romulan ship's fire. Kirk ordered return fire. Unfortunately they missed.

Spock reported that they're shields couldn't take another hit like the previous one. Lurching from his seat, Kirk sped to the lift. It was imperative he got to sickbay!

_Thud!_

Kirk picked himself off the floor from where he had fallen when he had hit the lift door. The lift door. Why hadn't the thing opened?

Banging on the door now, it finally hiss-squeaked open.

Waiting to arrive on sickbay's floor, inside the lift, Kirk shook his head.

Those interns were going to compromise the whole mission!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You've seen this before, I'm pretty sure. Or at least most of it. A lot of the time when a door wouldn't open on the Enterprise it was because the intern working the pulleys had forgotten to, well you know, open the door. I think there's an old blooper clip on youtube that shows Shatner falling down after having walked into one of these closed doors. :D This chappy is for Kamai6 who wanted Kirk to walk into a wall...


	33. Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: A Piece Of The Action

Late into the night, most people were asleep on board the _Enterprise_. But someone was awake, prowling the depths of the spaceship.

The red tinted light of engineering cast a shadow over the man's face.

Fedora tilted, the man hefted an imaginary "heater" and peered past a corner. He was going an a "hit" with some of the boys.

Shooting at the other gang's guys, he ran to the other side of the street. He needed to report to "Koik".

Watching carefully for any surprise attacks, Spocko made his move.


	34. "Darwins"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: The Naked Time (the most misleading episode title ever, by the way...)

A shore party had been sent down to the planets surface to investigate after no one had answered the Enterprise's calls. What they found was shocking, and terrible.

Six bodies were scattered throughout the base. Frozen in place, displaying their last actions: a man showering fully clothed, a woman carelessly strangled, head engineer asleep at his post...

Spock being a member of the two man shore party received a transmission. Over the communicator Kirk asked, "What happened?"

Matter of fact and with no hesitation Spock replied, "From a logical perspective, stupidity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ever heard of the Darwin Awards? It's a sad type of hilarity. 'Nuf said.


	35. Noticed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You're allowed to notice her! The Captain's not permitted!"   
> \- Kirk to Spock, on Rand. The Naked Time.

Everything was normal on the bridge.

Sulu and Chekov were staring into space, literally. Both had nothing to do and their shift was almost over.

Kirk was relaxed, leaning back into his chair.

Uhura was monitoring all frequencies for the latest gossip.

Spock alert, as always, at his station. Waiting for his chance...

Hiss-squeak; the lift doors opened.

Yeoman Rand walked onto the bridge. She handed Kirk his coffee and a PADD to sign.

One signature and a muttered "thanks" from the captain later, Rand was heading back to the lift and her other duties when-

"Yeoman, may I have a word with you?" asked Spock. Nodding, Rand walked over to his station.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Rand finally left.

Everything was normal on the bridge.

Or it would have been if not for the stunned silence.

Or if Spock hadn't looked so pleased.

Or Kirk hadn't looked so unhappy.

No. It was probably just Spock's date for later that night.


	36. Slow

One briefing and transporter beam later, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy were on the planet's surface. This planet showed signs of twentieth century technology, but readings said their were no intelligent lifeforms. Wondering what could be the cause of this, Kirk, Spock, and McCoy had beamed down.

The beamed into one of the larger buildings. Its plain corridors gave no indication of the buildings purpose.

"Scotty," Kirk spoke into his communicator, "where are we?"

"Ah don't know, Sir. Ah canna seem to pinpoint you."

Kirk sighed. "We'll figure something out."

"I'm sure you will sir."

* * *

Kirk ran as fast as he could, the sound of his feet striking the floor reverberated of the walls. Corridor after corridor he ran.

He'd gotten separated from the rest a while back.

Lungs burning, he had to stop. He collapsed against a wall, using it to stay upright.

He had to find Spock and McCoy before those... those _things_ caught up with him.

He'd only stopped for a minute when he heard the first moan.

Looking in the direction he had come, he could see it in the distance. Its slow, ambling gait filled him with dread even as its dead, white eyes filled him with horror.

The eyes that stared at him from a shrunken and peeling face were just that. Dead.

Gasping for breath, Kirk considered his options. He could try running, he could face that creature head on, or he could call Scotty and try to get beamed out.

The first option hadn't worked vary well so far.

Kirk could barely make out a trail of slime behind the creature... which seemed to be oozing from its head... He shuddered. Option two... just didn't feel right. So it was option three.

Pulling out his communicator, Kirk called Scotty.

"Can you get a pinpoint on my signal?"

"Nah' yet, Captain. Mista Spock an' I are workin' on it right now."

"Okay, Scotty. Hurry."

Kirk watched as the thing continued to slowly make its way towards him.

Now that it was slightly closer, Kirk could make out the fact that it was missing most its teeth and that the few it still had were widely spaced and covered in filth. In other words: disgusting.

He was sure its breath wouldn't be any better.

The communicator chirped and then Scotty said, "We got it, Sir!"

From several yards away the creature watched its prey disappeared into a shining gold light. With no other purpose, it continued its mindless walking.

* * *

McCoy was backed into a corner.

Eyes wide, head pressed against the wall. He had nowhere to run.

Briefly the thought crossed his mind that he really didn't want to be eaten by a corpse, but then he remembered he didn't want to be eaten at all.

McCoy closed his eyes and tried to block out the moaning.

One gold light later and the zombie had taken a bite out of nothing.

* * *

Later in sickbay...

"You got to me just in time or else I might be drooling in a corner right now wishing I had some brains to eat-"

Kirk cut him off. "What do you mean "just in time"? The zombie was like a mile away when I beamed out!"

Spock put in his two cents. "Indeed. The zombie I had encountered was approximately three point six five miles away when I constructed a signal for Scotty to pick up. Your zombie should not have been in as close a proximity as you have describe. I know you are "no spring chicken" by human standards, but I did not think you so old as not to be able to-"

"Who do you think you're callin' old?"

Spock's eyebrow went up. "I was merely stating-"

"Merely stating, _my foot!_ I'll show you!"

Kirk walked out of sickbay snickering quietly to himself.

McCoy would call him back to sickbay a little while later to make sure he hadn't gotten "infected" or anything, but in the meantime he could still try to get out of it.

As the sound of McCoy and Spock arguing began to fade, Kirk considered that as far as away missions go, this one hadn't turned out so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Recently I read a zombie fic or two and absolutely loved them. The descriptions were so horrifying and fun at the same time and the plots and character thoughts were so randomly and ridiculously funny... I loved them. :D Then I thought about how Star trek would pull off zombies and realized they would have utterly failed at it.
> 
> Kirk is trapped and awaits his horrible fate. The camera shows a zombie in the distance. Kirk is terrified and backed against a wall. The zombie is still where it was five minutes ago. Another five minutes pass before the zombie gets close enough for anything to happen. Unfortunately, three minutes into the wait you left to use the bathroom and consequently missed all the excitement.


	37. Snap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Amok Time

It'd been a long day and Kirk wanted to relax with some of his friends, so he headed over to Spock's room.

Walking through the door, Kirk saw Spock sitting at his desk studying something. Walking up behind him, Kirk was about to place a hand on Spock's shoulder when-

"Touch me and die."

Had he heard that correctly? That didn't sound like Spock...

Kirk came to the conclusion that yes, it was Spock when said half-Vulcan swiveled around and pinned him with a _look._ The type of look that just says, _touch me and die._ Yeah, how did he know these things?

"Spock are you okay? It hasn't been long enough for-"

"No, Captain. It is not _that._ " Kirk added an internal _thank goodness._

"I discovered a new poison today that is activated by skin contact. Unfortunately some of it spilled on me. The reason I am not dead right now is that the poison does not affect Vulcans."

Kirk was slightly taken aback by this quick explanation. "All the same, Spock. Shouldn't you be in sickbay?"

Kirk only got "The Eyebrow" as a response.

"Right... I'll just leave you to it then."

Kirk left Spock's room. Maybe he'd hang out with McCoy instead.


	38. Conspiracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Star Trek franchise or the characters in it. I don't own any of the following. I'm serious.

"Twinkies, cellphones, communicators after that, whale watching, telewision..."

On the outside McCoy was paying serious attention to the Russian's ranting.

On the inside McCoy would rather have been part of the shore party now underway, and that was saying something.

Chekov was now checking off his fingers. "... space, San Francisco, ice cream, English, the light bulb..."

In all honesty, the only reason McCoy was listening to him was because he had volunteered- been ordered- to spend some good personal time- babysit- Chekov while Sulu was detained planet-side.

Usually Sulu would be able to distract the young Russian from his listing, thereby maintaining the sanity and patience of all those in hearing distance.

"... bubble gum, x-rays, bagpipes, Harvard College, the Pilgrims..." Chekov had run out of fingers and now was just checking them off randomly.

However, Sulu was to busy being held on trial, trying to cheat death, and blah blah blah over a plant clipping.

_A clipping!_

That was just great, because it left McCoy in charge of getting Chekov to _shut up already!_ So far he had failed miserably, and even managed to set the navigator off on several different tangents _all at the same time!_

To say the least, McCoy was about ready to throw in the towel.

"... Harry Potter, money, the number zero, sliced bread, Romulan Ale, music..."

_Wait, what? That's going to far!_

Enraged, the doctor cut Chekov short. "You've got to be kidding me! You expect me to believe _Romulan Ale_ was invented in _Russia!_ That's not even the right planet!

Chekov glanced around the rec room before leaning over the table and saying in a conspiratorial tone, "Yes. They stole it from us many years ago. No one knows about it because Starfleet hasn't told anyone. They don't want to create a panic. But we know, oh yes, we know."

Chekov was completely stone-faced and serious as he said all of this.

A strangled noise of disbelief escaped from McCoy's open mouth (his jaw had unhinged in his lap some time ago).

He couldn't take it anymore.

It was just too much!

McCoy fled the room, the eyes of its many inhabitants on his retreating back, including those of a certain confused navigator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Interesting little tidbit, cellphones were originally based of communicators, hence my little reference. "...cellphones, communicators after that..."


	39. Fight! Fight!

Kirk watched the fight going on for a little while after it started, then he turned around and got out his communicator.

"Enterprise, this is Kirk."

"This is the Enterprise. Yes, Captain?"

"Put Doctor McCoy on."

While he waited, Kirk turned back and watched the fight. The sound and sight of a hard punch meeting flesh made Kirk flinch. _That'll hurt in the morning._

"McCoy here. What is it?"

"How do you feel about spending some good personal time with our resident Russian?"

"Why can't Sulu?"

"He's busy at the moment," Kirk said as he continued to watch the fight. _Ooh. Hit him again!_

"Nu-uh. I refuse. You can't make me."

"Yes I can." Some grumbling from the other end made Kirk smile.

" _Fine,_ " McCoy bit out. "How long?"

Kirk was still smiling as he told McCoy, "You know, just watching a fight and not being an actual part of it is sort of refreshing. I could do this all day!"

"How long, _Jim?_ " McCoy ground out the words over the communicator.

"A few hours. Maybe a day at tops."

"A day? _What? Do you expect me to babysit him-"_ Kirk flipped his communicator shut, effectively cutting of McCoy and the link.

Grinning, he pumped his fist in the air.

"Come on, Sulu! _Go for the eyes!_ "


	40. Spock Socks

Spock looked hard at his captors for the simple reason that Vulcans don't glare.

No, really. As it was, if Spock's "look" had been a phaser it would have been set to "kill."

Now you may be wondering what I meant about captors. You see, Spock was being held captive against his will. Of course.

Tied to a small chair, his knees jutting into his chin, Spock continued to not-glare at the many occupants of the small, dark room he was tied in.

Abruptly, one of them turned on the light.

Spock could now clearly see his captors and the room. He wished he couldn't.

Plastered over every surface of the room were pictures of the _Enterprise_ , its crew, himself, Leonard Nimoy, and the obviously new and just plastered on pictures of Zachary Quinto. This in its self was creepy and horrifying enough, but the fangirls were even worse.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention them.

They scared Spock the most (though he would deny it if he ever managed to escaped). Most of them weren't very physically imposing, it was their faces.

No they weren't horrifyingly ugly, it was just the _expressions_ on their faces.

Adoration, love, lust (Spock shuddered), _obsession._

They had captured Spock and he didn't know what they wanted with him. Okay, so maybe he had an idea...

"Krissy, where'd you get that chair? It's way too small." _They are capable of speech. Fascinating. Perhaps they possess some intelligence._

"Oh, I got it from work. The little dears won't mind."

 _The whole species is lacking if they put children in these creature's care. Human's are so illogical._ Spock heaved a mental sigh.

No he didn't, because Vulcans don't sigh. I forgot about that. Silly me.

The fangirls, including Krissy (currently employed at a daycare, who loves her job, but if you did hear about any job openings at Starfleet please notify her-), turned their attention back to Spock. _This is not good._

Krissy spoke. "Now acting as spokeswoman for everyone here, there are some things that need to be said before I begin. First of all: Spock _,_ you rock our socks! Spock socks that is! Second: your hair is soooo perfect and dark and you're so tall and alienly handsome. Third: we love everything about you and could you please introduce us to your parents?"

Another fangirl cut in. "Yeah! Your dad is so ho-"

"Shut up, Angeline!" Krissy hissed and attempted to claw out Angeline's eyes. " _Blasphemy!"_

The other fangirls (there were quite a lot of them) crowded around the catfight yelled advice and encouragement. Spock made his bid for escape.

Shuffling his feet, he managed to scoot the small chair around the crowd and toward the door. Using his chin to pull down on the doorknob (his chin hurt quite a lot after banging his knees into it while shuffling), the door opened from the other side before he could do it himself.

Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged man in shirt and tie. He looked at Spock, the fighting fangirls, and the posters in confusion. "What are you doing in the janitors closet?"

Then it hit Gary (middle-aged man in shirt and tie).

"Spock! Is it really true that Vulcans pur?"

Dropping his head in defeat, Spock was in a great deal of pain. Not only had he just bruised his chin even more, but the catfight was hurting his ears and giving him a headache.

There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel like such a sicko torturing Spock like this. This isn't my usual style and I don't know what brought this on. Actually I do. This chapter is dedicated to J0j2 who's awesome reviews inspired this sick creation.
> 
> "Gran- er, Shadow, what a strange mind you have."   
> "All the better to create CRACK WITH! Mwhahahaha!"
> 
> -Shadow


	41. The Trouble With...  Boys

The two little boys played in the sandbox, building small and large piles of sand and in some cases trying to eat the sand.

That was mostly Pavel though.

Despite that little bit of rule breaking, neither of them were throwing any sand. That was just wrong and mommy said not to do it.

When Pavel's mother, Mrs. Chekov, saw that he was trying to sneak some more of the sand she hurried over to him and picked him up, loosing his grasp on the fine play material.

His face, mostly around the mouth, already had a good coating of sand, clearly indicating the toddler had eaten some before she could stop him.

"Pavel must not eat sand. It's wery bad for him."

Little Pavel ignored what his mother was saying. Instead he merely looked up at her, his eyes wide, and doing his best kicked-puppy impersonation.

Then a bulge in his little left pants pocket cooed.

Mrs. Chekov gave in and let the little Russian off easy.

Walking back to the lawn chairs where Mrs. Kirk was sitting, she made her good-byes and thanked the other mother for the wonderful play-date.

From the sandbox Jimmy had taken the whole scene in. What a strange noise his friend's pocket had made. He was still wondering about it when his mother brought him inside.

Later that day, Jimmy found a fluffy ball. Pavel must have forgotten it after the play-date.

It cooed adorably up at him.

Holding the small creature in his chubby, toddler hands, Jimmy had an idea.

* * *

Sitting in the shopping cart, Jimmy enjoyed rolling through the grocery store.

His mother pushed the cart down the produce aisle and stopped near the lettuce and spinach. Picking up some of both, she compared them to each other.

Jimmy looked away in disgust.

He caught sight of someone else standing in the aisle.

The boy was pale and had black hair and strange, pointed ears. Jimmy thought he looked really cool.

Something behind the other boy caught his eye.

* * *

"Nana, nana!"

Spock jerked his head towards the cry.

A hassled mother was standing by the spinach (highly superior to lettuce) trying to quiet the toddler who had just broken the relative peace of the grocery store.

The woman wheeled her cart over to the bananas. One hand on the cart handle in the other hand her shopping list, she told her son "no."

Spock watch, fascinated, as the child started pouting.

One big crocodile tear found its way down his chubby cheek.

Then his pants pocket cooed.

The women gave in and put a bunch of bananas in the cart.

Taking this in, Spock failed to notice his mother's approach.

"Spock? Spo- oh there you are!" Amanda rushed around the aisle corner. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she did a quick inspection. "Thank goodness you're okay. Why did you wander off, Spock? I might not have found you!"

Something in Spock's tender, young heart wanted to embrace his mother, but his more logical brain won over.

He did not want to face the consequences of becoming lost, so he thought fast. "Coo?"

The corner of Amanda's mouth quirked. Her sharp eyes quickly search for strange bumps on her son's head, found none, then she smiled. "Come on, we're running late."

From the shopping cart wheeling in the opposite direction from the retreating backs of an adult human and child Vulcan, Jimmy grinned.

* * *

Spock and Leonard sat together eating their lunch.

They were brought together by their mutual love (in Spock's case, affinity) for being right, which usually led to them being shunned during recess and sought out before tests. Such is the way the world works.

Today while Leonard picked apart his turkey sandwich and Spock idly toyed with his salad, they were discussing one of earths greatest mysteries. Namely: the workings of a woman's mind.

"It produced a similar affect on my own mother; it is quite a remarkable phenomena."

"You're sayin' that if I went up to that girl over their and "cooed" at 'er, that she'd like me or somethin'?"

"While I stated it differently, that is essentially correct."

Leonard plopped his sandwich down on the table and stood up. "Let's see if this really works."

Spotting his first vict- test subject, Leonard walked nonchalantly up to Susie, the cutest girl in his grade. Spock carefully observed the test from the lunch table.

Leonard tapped Susie's shoulder. She turned around.

"Le coo." _Girls like French, right? I hope that ain't cheatin'... Ah, well. What Spock don't know won't hurt 'im._

"Lenny?"

"Do ya like me?" He looked really earnest and leaned forward, intent on the answer.

She sized him up. _Well... He's wierd, but he_ is _sorta cute..._

"Sure, but I'm not kissing you."

"Blech!" he recoiled, "I don't want ya to; you've got cooties." He stuck his tongue out, disgusted.

From his seat at the lunch table, Spock tallied the score. Coo- three. Girls- none.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one goes out to 1kiko who wanted a little Bones, Kirk, and Spock scene. I alllllmost got it. This still counts though, right? Review and let me know what you thought. Coo. :)


	42. The Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: some ST movie. I'm not sure which one...

Kirk strode into the bridge. Ordering the night shift off, he was left alone in the dim room. He purposely walked at a calm pace toward the viewing screen. _They_ must not get suspicious.

He'd been hearing _them_ for weeks now. He would be on the bridge ordering phaser fire, talking to Spock and McCoy, signing PADDs, sitting in his chair, when the whispers came. At first he'd put it down to Uhura's earpiece being too loud, but he soon came to the realization that the voices weren't coming from the earpiece or even the communications station.

Kirk was convinced he was not crazy, as McCoy would have noticed it by now. Someone, or someones, was watching him.

He stopped directly in front of the viewing screen and began his task.

Ten minutes later, the screen fell through the wall. Kirk's jaw dropped and the screwdriver left his hand, clattering on the floor.

_There are so many..._

Silence prevailed.

Kirk's eyes shifted, taking everything in. Then he let out a nervous laugh. "Wow. There sure are a lot of you... I guess I should put the screen back up now?"

They nodded emphatically.

Kirk swallowed uncomfortably. _I should leave the wall-breaking to Scotty next time..._


	43. It's Monday

"I'm so gangsta my pants sag."

"I'm so gangsta I don't wear pants."

"Ooh. You got me there." Sulu accepted his defeat.

Uhura looked smug.

"That was inwented in Russia."

"I'm afraid it was the Scots who did that, Lad" Scotty corrected Chekov.

Before the mild one-up-ing could lead to an argument the lift doors hiss-squeaked open, and Spock walked onto the bridge.

It was actually more of a shuffle than a walk.

"Another late night in the lab, Spock?" Sulu inquired. Spock had been working on a delicate, if not crucial, experiment for the past two weeks.

Spock grunted. His hair stuck up in multiple directions, like it had been caught by surprise with a combination of sea water and hair gel. There were deep green rings around his eyes. He looked terrible. Even his uniform was creased, like he had been wearing it for the past few days- and nights.

Chekov tried to be helpful. "I'm sure you weel find eet, Sir."

Spock didn't respond this time; he just slouched over to his station, then he slumped into his chair.

"If I read my Spock right, that would mean "no." From the looks of it, Scotty was right.

Turning their attention away from the unfortunate Vulcan with his overactive mind, they returned to the matter at hand.

"Do you think anything exciting will happen before lunch? My shift ends then."

"Sulu, it's Monday." Uhura shook her head, then walked up the steps back to her station.

"Oh," Chekov muttered disappointingly.

"Aye, Lad," Scotty agreed.

Spock's elbow slipped on his station sending his head on a direct one-way trip to said station. The resounding "Thunk!" was very impressive.

Uhura briefly tsked the purring Vulcan (he was drooling on the instruments) before turning back to her work, looking bored.

Hiss-squeak. Kirk twitched onto the bridge, in his jittery hand a scalding cup of coffee. "Wha'd I miss?"

Various voices called out "nothing" and "the usual".

Looking disappointed, Kirk plopped down on his chair -boy he loved his chair- and set about whipping his head every which way and twitching at random intervals.

Chekov cast his eyes heavenward (or as heavenward as you could get in space) and hoped Tuesday would come faster. Even after a week and a half of inactivity, Mondays were still the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You know there are just some days... Mondays... You know what I mean. *sighs* I apologize for OOC-ness.


	44. A Classic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Star Trek franchise or the characters in it. Or... I'll tell you later...

Contrary to popular belief, McCoy did loosen up and relax from his usual snarky mind frame every once in a while. In a long while, mind you.

Usually when he relaxed he'd do it over a drink with the captain or one of his other friends. He'd also go on shore-leaves, play cards, and bicker (among other things). That's just how McCoy worked.

On this particular occasion he was relaxing over a movie with his captain, Kirk, and the "hobgoblin", Spock. They were trying to persuade Spock as to the pure awesomeness of a certain twenty-first century children's show.

According to McCoy, it was a classic (he used to watch it with his daughter).

According to Kirk, it was the best children's show that ever was (he'd watched it as a child).

According to Spock, it was highly illogical.

Bears did no go around wearing shirts, talking to rabbits and owls and tigers, and they certainly didn't _talk._ To portray a bear as doing any of these things was illogical.

(That isn't to say he didn't feel a strange kinship with Christopher Robin, who also owned and loved a and large, potentially dangerous animal as a pet in his youth. Spock wondered if he would later obtain a copy of Winnie the Pooh's adventures at some later time, preferably when McCoy and Kirk didn't know about it.)

At any rate, they'd eventually gotten Spock to stop protesting enough to _sit down and watch the movie!_

Both McCoy and Kirk were thoroughly enjoying themselves and Spock hadn't made any outward signs of complete disgust at the last highly illogical and emotional scene.

They deemed the the night a success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The only reason I even thought of this at all is because I've recently been thinking about The Wolf in the Fold. It's an awesome episode and one of the actors who played the character Mr. Hengist and voiced the bady, Redjac or Jack the Ripper, also voiced a character from Winnie the Pooh. Take a guess... Piglet. Betcha didn't know that. (No, I don't own Winnie the Pooh. I bet you didn't know that either.)


	45. Couple

Amanda stood in the doorway, waiting as her husband walked up the path to their house.

Sarek stopped on the first step, the corners of his eyes and mouth barely crinkled. A Vulcan smile. Spock hadn't gotten those expressive- human- eyes from his mother.

Amanda stepped outside the doorway and sidled up to Sarek on the step. They're lips met.

They broke apart when they realized they were being watched.

Standing in the door Amanda had left ajar, were two children. One approximately nine years old and the other three.

The children had watched Amanda and Sarek's kiss with utter- rude- fascination.

Sarek raised his eyebrow at the two boys, questioning their actions (his would not be questioned by them).

Amanda merely laughed at Sybok's curiosity and Spock's young indifference.

She turned back to Sarek, a teasing smile on her face. "They get it from your side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Does this make me a shipper? It was admittedly fun to write for the romance genre. I've never done it before, so let me know how I did, hm?
> 
> This one goes to Dedicatedfollower467, who wanted something Sarek/Amanda oriented. Also, I finally got the child ages right! Memory Alpha puts Spock's birth six years after Sybok's.


	46. Feeding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: The Trouble with Tribbles

What? They're going to starve me? How's that fair? It's not like I can help my natural instincts!

Yeah, so I eat a lot and reproduce like and hare. That's what I'm supposed to do!

I want to yell my protests at this unfair treatment. I need food like any other living creature, possibly more. Yet they have the nerve to say I shouldn't get any!

_I can't help that I have a lot of babies! I was born pregnant, dang it!_

I briefly curse my lack of ability to make any sound other than a coo or soft trill.

I really, _really,_ feel like screaming right now.

Someone stroked my fur. I cooed.

Once again, my own body betrays me.

_Why?_


	47. Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References: The Naked Time, Quote III, and Epiphany. This thing's been stretched out for about forty chapters in my head. Time I put it to rest...

_**What would happen if you found a four-leaf-clover under a ladder?** _

Riley was walking up to the bridge when he was stopped by a large, red engineering ladder standing in the middle of the hall. At first he was puzzled as to why the ladder was there, but then he saw the clover under it. A four-leafed clover.

Not thinking of the consequences, Riley snatched it up and continued on his way.

As Riley walked back to his quarters later that night, his thoughts were in a jumble. He'd come to his sense earlier to find himself in engineering, the ship heading towards certain doom.

It felt like it had all been his fault, he was the one who messed with the ship's controls after all.

Of course, he'd almost gotten everything he wanted. Extra ice cream, captaincy, a captive audience for his singing, a ball, and prettier girls. That just made it worse. The almost part.

The next morning, someone finally reported the missing ladder and it was returned to engineering.

Riley threw out the clover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those of you who wondered what was with the missing ladder in Epiphany, this is it. Doesn't make much sense, I know. I wanted to turn this chapter into some great thing, but it took forever so I just posted this. *siiiiiiiigh* Oh well, at least the bunny has been put to rest! (The bunny had to die at some point.) Please leave a review to commemorate the deceased plot bunny. :)


	48. Commemorate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This one is for those who wrote such wonderful reviews last chapter, and of course for my now deceased plot bunny.
> 
> Servant05 and Mrspencil, I salute you.

A meek knock on the door to his quarters woke Kirk.

When he answered the door, in his ruffled state, he met the sight of a tearful Chekov. The navigator had been sent to Kirk to tell him of the news. The news that the science department's mascot, Mr. Bunny, had died and that they wanted Kirk to officiate over the services.

Somewhat exasperated, Kirk ran a hand through his hair.

Standing in the doorway, looking lost, Chekov sniffled. Kirk gave in.

What else was he supposed to do?

* * *

At the funeral, Spock spoke first. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have gathered here today to memorialize this good creature..." Spock spoke slowly and reverently about how Bunny had lived a good life and would be sorely missed by all the crew aboard. He ended, "Rest in peace, Mr. Bunny."

Tears were shed.

Kirk walked by Spock on the way to the stand. They nodded as they passed each other.

Kirk stood at the podium and placed his palms on the edge. He looked out over everyone gathered.

"Risk is our business. That is what the _Enterprise_ is all about, and that's why we're here. To take risks. When Bunny first came aboard this ship, he didn't know how dangerous it would be. The first time something tried to eat him, Bunny was afraid. But that didn't stop him! He knew then why he was here: to take risks! To go out and face the unknown, to go where no man or rabbit has gone before. Today, we should all be proud of Bunny. He has survived longer than all the others and, indeed, he has become a part of us. Let us all remember Bunny and what he meant to us, and to humanity."

Kirk turned to the small casket. "Bunny, I salute you." And he did. Then turning back to those gathered, he said, "Amen."

Kirk walked by several rows of crying and sniffling people, all inspired by what he had said. When he reached the back row, he sat down with McCoy. They both watched the rest of the proceedings.

Eventually Chekov came to the stand, stone faced and with moist eyes. "I wrote a poem about Mr. Bunny once. Now I weel share it weeth you."

"Quiet and calm with his slender long ears.

His patient understanding can drive you to tears."

Hiccup.

"Pink nose, white fur, and whiskers to boot,

He's not only a friend, but really quite cute."

Sniff.

"He's brave, loyal, courageous, it's true,

Mister Bunny, a good friend really is you."

Chekov ran from the room, the doors hiss-squeaking behind him.

A few puzzled mourners turned their heads to follow his escape, but their attention was recaptured when Spock returned to the stand.

"Thank you all for coming and sharing this special time with us, as we remember our great..." Spock had to force the word out, " _friend_ , Mr. Bunny. Refreshments will be served in recreation room three."

* * *

Once again in his quarters, Kirk quickly exchanged his dress uniform with his usual attire.

He sat down at his desk for a few moments, fingering at the carrot and celery sticks he had picked up after the funeral.

He leaned back in his chair, considering what had been said.

He started laughing and didn't stop until he was red in the face and couldn't breath. Then he said after a few recovering gasps, "Amen, brother. Amen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm laughing my head off...


	49. Paperwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homework, paperwork. What's the difference?

Kirk stared dejectedly at the clutter on his desk. It had overflowed and was encroaching on his bed, wardrobe, and even his bathroom. It had to end.

Giving up, Kirk started to read and sign all the reports scattered over his room. Once he was done with _that_ , he would have to write his _own_ reports.

The disaster/paperwork ratio was _way_ off.

Somewhere a god-like space identity was pointing and laughing at the unfortunate captain.


	50. Real

Ensign Morun had been let out of sickbay with a semi-clean bill of health. He supposed that was all he could hope for, really.

He'd been let off duty for a week, so he decided to catch up on some sleep first. He'd get dinner when he was feeling better.

Upon reaching his quarters, the redshirt staunchly ignored the hallucinations caused by the combination of McCoy's prescribed medicine and whatever poison he'd been hit with on the planet.

The giant mushrooms growing on his carpet and walls were easily ignored.

Morun briefly thought the giant, deadly looking spider was interesting before he flopped face first into bed.

Morun had gotten it partially wrong however. The creature wasn't a spider; it had ten legs and was something else all together. He did get it right on deadly, though.

He would realize his mistake when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Redshift torture is fun. :)


	51. Despair

Sally slid into a seat next to Joe at the bar. Sally ordered her drink, then turned to Joe. "You looked depressed."

Joe simply nodded and continued to nurse his beer, hunched in his seat.

"What's up? I heard you got transferred."

Joe nodded. " _Enterprise_."

Sally turned back to face the bar, not wanting Joe to see her expression. " _Oh._ "

Joe nodded. "Yep."

"Maybe you can do a quick career change, switch to science?" No response. "What are you gonna do then?"

Joe's briefly glanced at Sally's face. "I was hoping for alcohol poisoning."

Sally frowned. "They can cure that. You'll need something more exotic."

"Can't. Not enough time. Too hard to get."

"Oh."

They sat in resigned silence for a few moments.

The sound of people leaving and entering the bar, glasses clinking together, and people's laughter seemed vastly inappropriate.

Joe checked his watch. "I'm gonna be late for therapy."

Confused, Sally asked, "Therapy?"

"Yep. 'Fleet signed me up for it when they transferred me."

Sally frowned into her empty glass and ordered another. "When do you leave?"

"For therapy or..."

"Both." She tried to keep the despair out of her voice. Joe looked even more depressed and slouched further in his seat.

"I leave for therapy in about five and I leave for..." Joe took a long drink from his glass. "In the morning."

More silence as they drank.

"I'll tell your family for you," Sally offered.

"Thanks." Then Joe got up and left the bar.

Sally continued drinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Being a redshirt stinks. You already knew that though.


	52. Fate

During the routine investigation planet-side, no one let their guard down. Everyone was twitchy. Everyone was constantly looking over their shoulders.

They were still this way when the beamed back to the ship. They all filed into sickbay, checking for everything between hangnails and viruses.

When nothing was found, they still weren't convinced. But when by the end of the week nothing still had happened, they finally breathed a sigh of relief.

They gathered and celebrated their good fortune. Everyone was relieved and everyone smiled.

They were still smiling when the ship shook. The party stopped as everyone ran to their stations.

It turned out to be nothing, just some turbulence. Everyone smiled again, although they didn't go back to the party.

No use tempting fate, but they were happy all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Veteran's Day. Sand n' Sable asked for something to honor those who died in service and those still alive. I don't really feel adequate to write something like that. I couldn't do it justice. All the same, I wrote this chapter.


	53. Cover-Up

Joe sat with all the other unfortunates in a circle, with the inappropriately happy therapist at the head of it. Not that circles have heads.

He stopped that train of thought, knowing he was already losing _it_...

It wasn't a one-on-one therapy session, there were too many people assigned _there_ to actually have individual sessions.

He was resigned to his fate; his family had been informed, there was nothing he could do.

Sitting ramrod straight in his chair, arms folded across his chest, Joe listened to the therapist.

"There are a lot of new comers to our group today, so I'm going to explain what we do here. My goal is to help you all adjust and to make sure you're all ok. If you have _any_ problems, you can come to me." She smiled. Joe jerked his chin a bit, nodding.

"We also have a special pledge to help us all cope." The therapist went on to explain it. "...pledge to live life to its fullest... like there is no tomorrow... pledge to not listen to or participate in unpleasant rumors... to help others in this situation..."

Joe didn't move, but inside his thoughts were racing by at warp six. Unpleasant rumors?

What did "unpleasant rumors" have to do with anything? Everyone knew that people on _that_ ship in engineering or security- _redshirts-_ were the first to _go_... in more ways than one... But rumors?

He wasn't supposed to participate in rumors, hear or spread them.

So he was supposed to _ignore_ the hushed whispers.

He was supposed to let others go to their doom without knowing it, unaware, carefree...

He didn't know her name, it didn't matter... Maybe she only acted happy to avoid getting depressed, making _them_ depressed...

Maybe his therapist had her own therapist?

Joe took the pledge, repeating after the therapist.

He never intended to keep the pledge, though.

After all, it wasn't like anyone else would. Did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The result of the thought "Starfleet would try to keep the whole 'redshirts die horrible, painful deaths' thing under wraps, right?"


End file.
